


Made To Be Broken

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dubious Ethics, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, dubious psychology, improbable blowjobs, out of character Green Lantern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3910333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Batman has two rules for the JL, and after the week from hell the JL decides to break those two rules. They quickly learn why those rules are in place; after Batman's been captured in an effort save them. <br/>It's Clark that has to deal with the fallout of Bruce's exposure to the combined efforts of Poison Ivy and Scarecrow, for the good of all mankind. And some stellar blowjobs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Made To Be Broken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darke_wulf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darke_wulf/gifts).



> Previously posted elsewhere.   
> Clark's treatment is a little extreme, so let me know if I need to add tags or warnings, please and thanks.

The JL was formed for the greater good, spreading peace to, and beyond, their tiny planet. A member had to be more than gifted to be invited to join. Lex Luther was gifted, but couldn’t be counted on to give his life for a stranger. Even amongst these selfless heroes, rules were needed to keep things running smoothly.

Several rules established monitor duty rotation scheduling, and there was a rule about acceptable reasons to miss meetings. A rule about making more coffee if you finished off the pot. Lots of rules in the JL, but two very important rules wouldn’t be found in any rulebook. Not written anywhere, except the hearts of the members. Flash would joke about not stepping on Superman’s cape, and Superman would laugh with the rest of them. These two unspoken, unwritten rules didn’t cover cape pulling, but after one look from Batman it was obvious that wasn’t a good idea either. The number one rule was from Batman and compliance with those four little words was strictly enforced. 

Stay out of Gotham. 

Neither civilian nor costumed identity was allowed in Gotham, let alone allowed to fight crime in that city, without direct approval and supervision by Batman. Whatever an individual thought of that rule, it was easy to follow. If you weren’t brave enough to ask the Batman if he needed help, you weren’t ready to work in his dark city. Simple to understand and follow, even if JL members thought Batman was a control freak. 

The second rule wasn’t as clearly defined or as obvious, perhaps because Batman had never said it. People had to discover it by trial and error, or trial and glare as Flash called it outside of Batman’s hearing range. 

Do not socially interact with Batman; it’s a waste of time and he punishes time wasters. 

Batman walking away in the middle of a conversation was often the first clue that a relevant discussion had devolved into personal chitchat. Superman was the most flagrant violator of rule two, but still respected rule one. Batman would try and walk away from Superman, but Superman would walk with him at whatever pace Batman set. Superman learned to ask questions, and Batman seemed interested in providing the answers. 

Other JL members began to copy Superman, asking Batman questions instead of talking about their lives. Batman snarked and snarled, but allowed it. He wanted to share his knowledge, believing it could save all their lives someday. Rule two was eroding slowly, so the destruction of rule one couldn’t be far behind. After all, if the situation was right, most rules could bend, and some were made to be broken. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Batman snarled a greeting at the assembled team members as he stalked into the meeting room. 

“Bats, you’re late!” Flash said, trying to distract the other members from the fact he’d only just arrived before Batman. It worked, as the whole table winced at the way Batman stopped walking to turn, slowly, to face Flash. 

“Really? All this equipment at my disposal, you’d think I’d know the time.” Flash shrunk in on himself a little, honestly scared by the sarcastic, angry tone of his teammate. Moving again and heading for his seat, Batman spoke again. “You know, if you thought.” 

“Batman, Flash, let’s settle down and start this meeting.” Superman tried to be the voice of reason, but even as he started on the agenda he checked under Batman’s mask. Bruce had bags under his eyes, and his heart rate was accelerated. Bruce was stressed, and Superman frowned as he moved on. 

A short time later, Superman asked if anybody had seen any mistakes in the last fight the whole team had been involved in. Everyone turned to Batman, who was usually full of observations about such things, to find Batman’s head almost touching his chest. Flash dashed out of the room so he could laugh loudly out in the hall. Superman was more concerned than Flash and whispered to the astonished leaguers. 

“Perhaps we should quietly move this meeting to another room?” In the quiet of nodding heads, Superman heard the voice speaking over Batman’s earpiece. 

“Sir, I regret that I must alert you to a situation.” That was all it took to end Batman’s nap. He was up and moving toward the door without an explanation. 

“Details?” He growled as he walked. Superman held up a hand to the JL in a wait motion, and followed Batman. Superman wasn’t fast enough, the door opening to show him a Flash who was pointing and laughing at Batman. A motion of Batman’s hand and the laughter stopped. “Not her usual M.O. I’ll on my way.” 

“Batman?” Superman called down the hall, waiting by the immobile Flash as Batman started walking away. 

“It’s a new paralytic, it’ll wear off on its own. Be sure and tell me how long it works on him.” 

Batman’s voice showed he was mostly concerned with Gotham, so Superman let him go. Picking up Flash, Superman carried him into the meeting. During the laughter and confusion, Superman set Flash behind his chair. Settling into his own chair, Superman addressed the meeting at large. 

“I trust Batman not to intentionally cause lasting harm, so if he says it’ll wear off we just have to let it do that. Just to be considerate though, I don’t think we should have Monday meetings anymore. Can we try Tuesday next month?” 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Someone was holding the corporate offices of Wayne Enterprises hostage, so it was something of a typical Tuesday in Gotham. Brucie Wayne hadn’t shown up for work today, so only 32 employees had become bargaining chips. The hostage taker requested the crown jewels in exchange, but wasn’t specific as to which kingdom he wanted the jewels from. Wonder Woman leaned back in the monitor station’s chair and considered. This individual was probably what Flash referred to as a ‘nutjob’ and needed to be stopped. It was daylight, so GCPD didn’t expect Batman. Which was just as well, as he was off planet at the moment. 

A distress signal had reached the Watchtower, a passing spacecraft needed help and replacement parts for their life support systems. Earth was unlikely to have replacement parts for the advanced vehicle, but they could still assist in some way. Many of the JL members were creative, clever with machines, or able to improvise well. Batman had turned all three attributes into an art form, and was a natural for this kind of thing. Batman had just returned to his cave for the night when J’onn called him, so he was working with no sleep. It would take a long time, and Gotham was endangered by a nutjob. 

Diana could clear the building before the nutjob knew she was there and activate his bombs. Flash could search the building for the bombs the nutjob claimed to have, and Hawkgirl could take out the nutjob. They would be out of Gotham before Batman even knew they went, and all he’d be able to do about it was growl. Bats didn’t growl, that Diana knew of anyway, so Batman was more like a bear than a bat. Diana grinned at the idea of Bear-man, knowing it wouldn’t have been nearly as scary and decided to call Hawkgirl and Flash. Except the comm. beeped at her before she could activate it. 

“Watchtower? This is Superman. We’re all okay and ready to land, if you’d open the door?” Before Diana could respond, the growl she’d been thinking of moments ago started. 

“That’s not proper recognition code, you’ll get us all killed by aliens.” Rolling her eyes, Diana worked the controls to open the docking bay doors. The growl now focused on the comm., instead of Superman. “Javelin 2 to Watchtower. Request docking procedure alpha.” 

“Watchtower to Javelin 2, docking permission granted, bay one opening.” Diana’s calm, professional voice hopefully soothed the bat a tiny bit, but she didn’t want to offend Superman either. “Superman, glad you are well, and welcome home.” 

Once the smaller, quicker Javelin was inside, Diana shut the doors and went down to greet them. Greet most of them, that is, and tell Batman what was happening in his city. She’d also risk his wraith by offering to assist. Despite his reluctance to accept such things, Diana considered Bruce her friend and occasionally entertained notions of something more. 

Green Lantern was the first off, as was expected whenever he was confined with Batman. J’onn was next, tiny signs of stress on his normally stoic face. Stopping beside Diana, he turned to face the shuttle and sent her a mental image. 

_The green aliens were about five feet tall, but were panicking as the air got thinner. Tossing his cape aside, Batman had squirmed into a tube made for their engineers. In the tight quarters, he fitted two incompatible machines together, using what looked like a toaster._ A four slice toaster, Diana thought. _On the bridge, the computer registered life support as functional, and a scared alien started the machine before Batman was clear._

Catching Diana’s concern, J’onn sent back the warm feelings that showed Batman was fully functional. As Superman had said, they were all okay. Batman emerged from the craft, and Diana let herself get an eyeful. Only the reinforced areas of Batman’s armor had survived contact with the alien atmosphere, and even that had a ragged caveman look to it. Batman was basically wearing his black briefs, boots, gauntlets and cowl, with scraps of expensive armor draped around. Without the armor, the utility belt hung off his hips, adding to the idea that all that kept the remaining material on him was his formidable willpower. 

As he moved, light reflected off of his skin. When he got close enough, Diana could see he was covered with tiny crystals and had to clamp down on a mad laugh. It had been a sexy look, emphasizing lean muscles and a powerful body, until she realized he’d been covered in glitter. Even Batman was hard to take seriously when wearing body glitter! Fighting back the laugh, Diana still turned to watch him walk out of the landing bay. Willpower was defiantly the only thing holding up those briefs. 

Only after the door closed behind her, did Diana look for Superman. He was standing beside her, a strange look on his face as he stared at where Batman had disappeared. Superman held Batman’s cape reverently in his hands, and blushed when he realized Diana was looking at him. 

“The crystals on him have to be neutralized with water, or else they eat through things. So he wouldn’t wear the cape and couldn’t sit down the whole flight back. And he wants a sample for study, so he couldn’t wash up there.” Diana considered what her face would look like if she had to look at that and not touch for three hours. Might just explain why Clark looked so dazed, but only if he could be moved by male beauty. Or was that a crazy idea? Insanity reminded her, and Diana spoke. 

“I need to speak to Batman, something has come up in Gotham.” 

“No!” Shocked, ice blue eyes were staring at her from Superman’s kind face. Diana tensed her body, ready to respond to a physical attack. Instead, Superman blushed and looked away. “Sorry, it’s just that now might not be a good time. He’s tired, and not about to admit it. He passed bat-cranky and moved straight to bat-angry-enough-to-make-the-Joker-reconsider-what-he’s-about-to-do. Maybe someone else should go, someone who doesn’t present a solid target.” 

Here, Superman turned hopeful eyes to J’onn, who considered him steadily for a moment. “I will, but only if you give more thoughts to your motivation for having me do so, Superman. Princess, will you tell me of the situation?” 

Diana sent J’onn a mental image of what she knew. When J’onn floated upward, Superman was gone, taking the cape and his secret motivations with him. Diana went back to the monitor womb, she had another hour on her shift to consider this. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Flash slowly shook his head at the madness on his screen. Wednesday morning monitor duty was always as dull as watching paint dry. On one screen, Wally’s favorite shows played, while another had a game of spider solitaire, four suites. Just to keep himself from getting bored, he also had a laptop playing viral videos, and a box of snacks. The viral video in front of him he had to replay, simply because he couldn’t believe it. 

Yesterday, the nutjob de jour of Gotham (nutjob central) had taken hostages and asked for the crown jewels. It was daylight when he walked out of Wayne Enterprises, into the waiting arms of the cops. Unarmed, he was helped into the back of a truck, caressing the cardboard crown in his hands. Another was perched jauntily on his head, the logo of the fast food restaurant it had come from blurred out. Nutjob waived regally at the crowd of cops and reporters before the truck doors slammed. 

The comments mostly asked what brand of crazy this guy used. Some claimed Batman had entered the building and traded the hostages for the thin cardboard crown and were laughed at for believing Batman was more than an urban legend. Flash had another question, and spent several minutes trying to imagine where and how Batman had gotten the fast food items. He could almost picture Batman going in to stop a robbery, but at the image of him waiting in line, Flash’s brain stalled. Deciding Batman had a specially designed grappling hook for getting fast food products, Wally switched over to see what new nutjobs were making the news in Gotham. 

_“Killer Crock has been recaptured, after escaping Arkham asylum Monday afternoon. The escape is believed to have been orchestrated by Poison Ivy, who escaped from Arkham several months ago. Though she doesn’t normally concern herself with her fellow inmates, Poison Ivy’s plants broke down the walls and allowed five inmates to escape. Three have been recaptured, leaving Scarecrow and Harley Quinn at large. So be extra careful, Gotham! Janet?”_

“Thank you Brad. If you are one of the lucky few, you’re going to the Gotham Children’s Hospital fundraiser tonight. Billionaire playboy Brucie Wayne is on the auction block, the grand prize in tonight’s bachelor action. Event organizers expect an evening with Brucie to fetch $100,000, to be used for life saving research into children’s cancers. Those of us not invited, will have to sit at home and wish the bidders good luck. I only hope Harley Quinn doesn’t put in a bid!” Brad and Janet shared a moment of amusement at each other, and Flash made a face at the dumb things that passed for humor on news shows. _“And now to Ryan, with the weather. Ryan?”_

Bored, Flash switched back over to the viral videos, and put Gotham out of his mind. It wasn’t like Batman would ever accept help there anyway. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Hawkgirl let her mace tap threateningly on the floor, wishing she could beat something up. Normally monitor duty wasn’t so bad, a calm space in the storm of her life, but she wasn’t used to being treated like this either. Thursday afternoon wasn’t her turn on duty, so what was she even doing here? Reviewing last night’s events wouldn’t calm her, but it gave her something to do. 

She’d been out for a flight, watching the sunset as she rode the thermals. The JL comm. in her ear was soothing in its own way as she listened for places she might be of assistance. Green Lantern’s voice always got her attention, just in case he was talking to her, considering her as a potential mate. So when he laughed into the comm. she listened. 

“Where’s Batman when Gotham needs him? At home, waiting for the sun to set!” 

“Lantern, what’s going on in Gotham?” 

“Hey Hawkgirl. Just turned on the news, and Harley Quinn has held up a bachelor auction in Gotham. She’s demanding the Joker be let out of prison so she can bid on him!” 

“You can buy unmarried men in this country?” Shiera was surprised at this, even as she wondered if she could afford John. 

“No, it’s a charity event. You donate money to get a date with them.” 

“Understood.” Hawkgirl said, though she was still fuzzy on the details. “I’m on my way to Gotham now, and Batman can take over after it gets dark.” 

“No.” The scary voice came over the comm. and Hawkgirl knew she would have stumbled had she been in walking. “I’m taking care of this now. Stay out of Gotham.” 

“Don’t be that way, Batman. We’re only trying to help.” Hawkgirl hadn’t expected her comment to get his attention, but it had. 

“There are hostages Hawkgirl. Fragile civilians, who can’t handle your type of _help._ ” 

Batman’s comments still hurt, even though Hawkgirl was used to them by now. But she wasn’t used to Green Lantern rushing to her defense, and she liked that idea. 

“Knock it off Batman, you’ve got no reason to go after Shi, I mean Hawkgirl. You don’t have to be so damn nasty to offers of assistance, you territorial jackass!” 

“Fine, Hawkgirl wants to help, she can have my turn at monitor duty tomorrow morning. Green Lantern, you know where you can stick that ring.” 

Batman hadn’t responded to any of the colorful things John had filled the comm. with, until Superman had to step in and ask John to stop transmitting. Looking back on it, Hawkgirl wondered just how much of that conversation had been planned. Had that all been Batman’s way of asking for someone to take his shift, but in such a way as to keep up his masculine pride? 

“Hey.” 

Shiera looked up to see John walking toward her. “Hello, Green Lantern.” 

“Came to keep you company, since it’s my fault you’ve got monitor duty.” 

“It is unnecessary, but appreciated.” As John conjured up a chair with his ring, Shiera looked for something to say. “Did you hear if they found Bruce Wayne yet?” 

“Yeah, about four hours after Batman gave Quinn to the cops, they found Wayne in a closet down the hall. The moron had run away from the dressing room when he heard the screams, and fallen asleep in the closet.” 

“Seriously?” John laughed as he nodded, and Shiera laughed with him. “What kind of idiot falls asleep during a hostage negotiation?” 

“He’d be dead, but leave a well rested corpse.” More shared laughter before they moved on to other topics of conversation. When the news playing in the background mentioned Gotham, Shiera wondered if Batman could have planned this as well, but dismissed the question as easily as she dismissed the financial news. 

_“A new player in Gotham is causing speculative day trading, but investors are encouraged to watch the start up, PI & S, before investing. A bio-chemical tech firm PI & S is poised to take on WayneTech with their organic bug spray, but first they have to pass EPA testing. The company is showcasing their products this afternoon outside of Gotham.” _“ 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Lois Lane really hated Gotham Even the park was dark and gloomy during the day. Old trees, old buildings, and quite a lot of old people. Not that Lois minded old people, but for such a thriving party scene as Gotham was supposed to have, there sure were a lot of old people at this event. Coming in to see if investing in PI & S was a wise thing to do, the old people apparently still held Gotham’s purse strings. 

The startup company was holding a picnic in the park to attract investors and press. Though it was more of a carnival than a picnic, in Lois’s humble opinion. Lois had received an invitation in her name, and came without Clark or Jimmy. She regretted it now, as either one would have been a nice distraction from gloom and doom that permeated Gotham even when it tried to be cheerful. 

“Come on guys,” whined a familiar voice. 

Lois turned to see Brucie Wayne trying to bribe his way past security at a small tent. With all the gaudy things going on today, it was strange that Brucie would want in the plain tent before him. Her reporter’s instincts flared up and Lois moved closer. Brucie looked tired, which probably meant he’d partied all night and was still hung over. He was trying to bribe his way in with a gold watch and a desperate look. The guard was uninterested and had dazed look about him. With a deep breath, Lois went to rescue Brucie. 

“Bruce, what have you to say about your new competitor?” 

Brucie slowly turned to face Lois, his drunken state more noticeable with every movement. With some difficulty Brucie manage to focus on Lois. “I need to pee, but I can’t afford the pay toilet.” 

Lois rolled her eyes but wanted to be on Brucie’s good side, so she spoke to the guard. “Is this the bathroom?” 

“No. This tent is restricted.” The guard’s voice was too dull to be natural, and Lois felt her instincts flare. 

“Come on Brucie, I’ll help you find the bathroom.” Even as she led Brucie away, Lois planned how she would get into that tent and find out what was really going on. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark Kent returned from his lunch break on Friday, not looking as though he had saved a bus from crashing into a house when the brakes failed. He did wonder where Lois was, but heard his name called before he could do more than wonder. Stumbling to his feet, he went to see what Perry wanted. 

“Kent, get in touch with the _Gotham Gazette_ , find out what they know about the takeover!” 

“What takeover, Chief?” 

“PI&S is taking over Wayne Enterprises. You should listen to the news instead of pining after Lois, now go!” 

Retreating to his desk, Clark pretended to look up the number for the people he knew on the Gotham paper, but used his cell phone to call Bruce Wayne directly. One and a half rings, and the voice mail kicked in. Bruce had seen who was calling and hung up on him! Annoyed by this, as Clark wanted to help more than report on this just yet, Clark called another number. Two rings and the phone was picked up. This number had caller id also, but was the domain of one too polite to ignore Clark. 

“Master Kent, what may I do for you?” 

“Hey Alfred. What’s going on? I’ve heard about some sort of takeover attempt.” 

“News has always traveled fast, but this story is incomplete. Master Bruce has assured me that W.E. is secure, very complicatedly run by several trusts. This takeover is more of a publicity stunt on the behalf of PI & S, a new company. Inquiries into the organization over the past few weeks only found more questions, and some think the takeover is retribution for asking those questions.” 

“So it’s nothing to worry about?” 

“Most people would not worry.” Alfred clearly meant that despite his logical reasons not to, Bruce was still worrying. 

“How was his evening?” 

“I believe it tired him more than he would like to admit. He did manage to turn an ankle, straining the ligaments. The papers tell of him jumping from the high dive in a stage of extreme inebriation.” Brucie’s cover story, which hadn’t been witnessed because it never happened, but crowds of Gothamites would swear they saw it. After all, the ‘in’ crowd of popular people had seen it, so who would admit they weren’t in that crowd? 

“He wasn’t in the best of spirits when I last saw him.” 

“I suspect it is the effort of hiding his exhaustion, as he so wants to earn your respect.” 

“Really?” Clark couldn’t help the disbelief in his voice. If anything, he would have thought Bruce had no interest in being respectable. 

“I believe he is requesting my attention on the other line, if you will excuse me Master Kent?” 

“Right, thanks Alfred. Goodbye.” 

“Goodbye, Sir.” 

Hanging up the phone, Clark turned to his desk phone. Now he could begin reporting on the issue, having done his duty to his friend. Making phone calls and digging into court records was not the glamorous part of being a reporter, but it was necessary. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Other than the occasional outbreak of crime to beat down, Clark spent the day digging into PI & S. The anomalies he found were still on his mind when he went on patrol after work. His phone calls to Lois had been ignored, but that wasn’t uncommon when Lois was investigating. As he flew, he listened for Lois and other cries for assistance. He forced himself to ignore the cries from Gotham, as Batman wanted. 

“Superman this is Green Lantern.” The JL com had been busy all night, but this was the first time Superman was addressed directly. 

“Superman here.” 

“Trouble in Gotham, and Batman’s nowhere to be found.” 

“What kind of trouble, GL?” Superman felt he had to ask. He secretly believed there were some things Batman couldn’t handle, though he feared finding out what those things were. 

“Entire population has gone nuts, apparently. Screaming and laughing, while doing crazy stunts and destroying things. Unless there was a game tonight, it even seems weird, even for Gotham.” 

“What is the news saying?” 

“Lois lane was reporting when the regular news crews couldn’t, but then the electricity went out. No one can contact anyone in Gotham.” 

“Send whoever is available to Gotham now.” Clark turned in midair and headed for Gotham. He knew Bruce would be doing his best, but Lois wouldn’t be Bruce’s priority. Batman could deal with the territory infringement later, and doubtless would. 

“Superman? Flash, Hawkgirl, and I are on our way.” 

“Very good GL, and be careful!” 

GL snorted into the com. “We can handle Gotham, it’s just another city.” 

Before, Superman would have agreed. But hearing the derision in green Lantern’s voice, Clark had a moment of doubt. What if they were wrong about Batman’s reasons? The question was forgotten as he dropped into Gotham and began assessing the situation. The bridges were lined with people fighting over the chance to bungee jump off, while crowds fought their way to the tops of buildings for base jumping. Cars raced down the road, ignoring all rules and safe driving tips. Apparently they had all decided they were stunt people from movies or something. Though that didn’t explain why the electricity was off for the entire city. 

Lois’s laugh called to Superman and he sped toward her. When he caught her 20 feet above the concrete, Lois kept laughing. Confused, Clark set her down and went to see what other tragedies he could stop. He talked and searched even as he caught crazed civilians and tried to make them stay put. 

“Situation, GL?” 

“Superman, we’re all here attempting to save the civilians. Do you have any idea what happened to them?” 

“Not really, but I bet Batman knows.” That was what Batman was probably doing, trying to find the cause of the problem and stop it. If he wasn’t so territorial, he could have had assistance from the start of the emergency. 

“Not too helpful, if he won’t come out and tell us.” GL sounded smug at the thought. 

“I thought he’d pick up our signal and tell us to get out already.” Superman spoke mostly to himself, worry creeping into his voice. 

“GL, John?” Hawkgirl spoke, and Superman thought for sure Batman would speak, to remind them not to use real names on the comm. “Can you smell that?” 

“I can smell it!” Flash spoke first, even as Superman took a deep sniff. “I can smell everything. You know what I’ve always wanted to do? I’ve always wanted to find the Batcave! If you have this, I’m going to track down Bats!” 

The words were jumbled up and almost too fast for Superman to decipher. When he did figure them out Clark still couldn’t believe it. “Wait Flash! You know how much that’ll piss him off!” 

“Exactly, that’s what makes it fun!” 

Superman grinned, understanding what Flash meant. “Have fun Wally. I’m going after the man himself, and I have a surprise for him!” 

“John, come fly with me?” There was no hesitation in Hawkgirl’s voice, instead she sounded giddy. 

“Been waiting on you to ask, Shyera!” 

Superman was peripherally aware of his teammates as they went their separate ways, even as he made sure Lois was still climbing the steps to the roof of a building. But his main attention was focused on Batman. Bruce would be at the source of the trouble, so Clark flew in decreasing circles, sniffing the air. At the focal point of distribution, Superman landed. The abandoned greenhouse overflowing with plants was obviously Poison Ivy’s headquarters, and mind altering chemicals were her specialty. The addition of a large warehouse full of chemicals and equipment was unusual for her, though. 

A scan of the warehouse showed only two people, neither of which sported the scarred bones of Bruce. Clark knew Poison Ivy could effect him, but he went in without a care. The plants moved at his approach but Clark wasn’t worried. None of the plant’s moved directly at him so he made steady progress toward the first person visible on his x-ray. Large tropical looking plants moved leaves away so he could see her, enthroned on more vegetation. She had a flair for the dramatic, he had to give a Poison Ivy that. 

“Ivy! Where is he?” 

“He, Superman?” Ivy gave him a curious look. “An entire city gone crazy, and you’re asking after one person?” 

“Yes, Batman. I wanted to do something to him.” 

“Well now, that sounds interesting. But I’m afraid I can’t help you, I’m too busy be turning this city back to the green.” 

“JL, assemble at my location!” Superman command into the comm. He was actually impressed by how quickly Flash turned up. Hawkgirl and GL soon hung in the sky just above Superman’s shoulders. “Ivy, I’m not the mood to ask again.” 

“Really? You know what would that be scary? Fighting Batman! Yes, search the city and find him. Defeat him on his own turf and defeat your fear of him!” 

“Superman? That really does sound exciting!” Flash added in a breathless voice. 

“Enough.” The calm growl was quiet, but drew all attention to the speaker. Batman was crouched among the sprinklers in the roof of the greenhouse. When he was satisfied that everyone was looking at him, Batman made a deliberate movement. Something fell, and crashed on the plants below them. Mesmerized, they watched as several plants melted and died. Ivy whimpered from her perch. ”A little something that I picked up in my travels. Hand over the antidote or this entire greenhouse dies.” 

“I don’t make antidotes.” 

“Your partner does.” Someone found Batman’s words funny, as a maniacal laugh echoed around them. The other person superman had noticed chose not to show himself. Instead he called them over the PA system built into the greenhouse. 

“I have the antidote, but I don’t care about the plants.” 

“I only need to know which fear toxin you combined with Ivy’s poison and I’ll have the antidote. This is your chance to come quietly.” 

“And the clown says you have no sense of humor. I would have been proud to have you as a student, and know you could work out an antidote with enough time. But you don’t have time, do you? What kind of havoc could the Justice League inflict on your city under my influence? Let’s find out. Superman, wasn’t there something terrifying you wanted to do?” 

Superman wasn’t sure why he let it go this long actually. He turned to Batman and lifted off, forgetting the felons behind him. A shot of green light arced toward Batman at the same time, but Batman was no longer there. There was more green light as Superman turned, but this green light made him hurt. Angered that Green Lantern would turn on him, prevent him from giving Batman what he needed, Superman focused his heat beams on GL. The green shield deflected the beams into ripping out a chunk of the roof. Shrieking her war cry, Hawkgirl dove at Superman. Superman dodged and she crashed into Flash. His strength leaving him, Superman flung himself at GL. His shield held as Superman used his remaining strength to pound into it. And the edge of their awareness, voices conversed. 

“What do you want, Scarecrow?” 

“Of late, I’ve been wanting a new challenge. But I find the old challenge is standing in my way. You Batman, my old challenge, I want you.” 

“Here I am.” 

“Armed to the razor sharp teeth? I don’t think so.” 

“My esteemed colleague has a beautiful idea.” Ivy understood, and approved. “Take it off, all of it.” 

“He can leave on his underwear, we must leave something to the imagination.” Scarecrow added in a prude voice. 

“Give them the antidote first.” 

“Do I have your word that you’ll come with us, stripped of your equipment?” Ivy’s normally sultry voice almost quivered with excitement. 

“Yes.” 

A simple word but it was accepted for a promise. A plant vine uncurled, passing a large vial to Batman. The weakness and pain stopped, allowing Superman remembered what he came here for. Once again he turned to Batman, but this time his target stood and waited for him. He had just put a hand on Batman’s shoulder when Batman shoved that the vial under his nose. Superman paused, letting the chemicals war within him. It took a moment to realize Hawkgirl was still chasing Flash, and GL was throwing bolts of energy on his back. Fully aware at last Clark flushed. Batman snorted and handed him the vial. 

“Replicate this. Cure Gotham.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“You’ll figure that out. Now go.” 

Recognizing the commanding tone and seething anger, Superman got moving. Speeding around GL’s shield he gave GL a whiff of the antidote. Flash and then Hawkgirl inhaled, turning embarrassed the eyes to Batman. He stripped off his gear even as he snarled at them. 

“Spread the antidote. Now!” 

Embarrassed, Clark silently directed the others out. Once outside he turned to Flash. “Take this to Gordon, give him a sniff and tell him to spread it around. Hawkgirl, GL cover the airspace around greenhouse. I’m going back in.” 

“You think you should?” Green Lantern was embarrassed to ask, and a little overwhelmed by Gotham’s villains. 

“I’m sure it’ll piss him off further, but I have to.” 

This time Superman went in slowly, watching for traps. He was about halfway and when the plants attacked. Distracted by flapping leaves, he let the vines sneak up on him. It took longer than it should have to burn off the vines and rip his way through the plants. When he reached the clearing all that remained was a pile of Batman’s armor. Picking up the cowl, Clark noticed the black fluid dripping from it. Like much of dealing with Batman, Clark can no idea what that was about. 

“GL, Hawkgirl, do you see anything?” 

“No sign of movement.” 

“They must’ve gone underground. Come help me gather up Batman’s armor. I shudder to think what he do if he comes back and we missed some.” 

sB _Sb_ Bs

John had never had a more miserable start to the weekend. The entire JL had been called out to Gotham, searching for a naked Batman. In a town gone crazy, there were a lot of naked people but none answered to ‘uh, Batman?’ 

Commissioner Gordon had managed to replicate the antidote so quickly it was disconcerting. If he’d had time, John would have asked about the system for it and how often it was needed. Instead he’d conjured a fan to blow the antidote over the city, while Flash used his speed to make sure it got to everyone. Once the civilians were back to normal, and safe, the JL had to figure out how to get the electricity back on. 

All this, all the statements from civilians and the JL members, and nobody was sure what it had been about. Everyone had suddenly wanted to do what had terrified them before, but how would that benefit either Poison Ivy or Scarecrow? How had the three of them disappeared so thoroughly, so quickly? And why had Superman attacked him, when John finally had the nerve to put that sanctimonious bat back in the belfry? 

John was heading for his room on the Watchtower, and saw a bit of brown wing going around a corner. There was a situation he was happy about, no matter how it happened. Shiera had asked him to fly with her, a significant step in a relationship for her people. They’d agreed to meet for supper, so John had most of the day to prepare. He planned on getting some sleep, as he knew a relationship with the hot tempered fighter would be a demanding kind of awesome. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark took the suit to the Batcave, and informed Alfred that he had lost Bruce. Alfred was stoic, but Clark would rather have faced Darkseid than that stiff upper lip. 

“He will find his way home” was all Alfred had to say on the subject. Alfred hadn’t known about the black substance either, but ran a chemical analysis. All he could say was it was a dye based on food coloring. On his third offer of breakfast, Clark took his leave from Alfred. Clark x-rayed all of Gotham on his way to the Watchtower. 

Superman was usually the nicest person on the watchtower. But on this Saturday morning he was angry and frustrated with his teammates. Their guilty and embarrassed expressions only made matters worse. Clark went into the cafeteria for a cup of coffee and saw Flash slowly picking his way it through the breakfast foods. Clark flushed with anger, outrage that his teammates could continue on as if nothing happened. Storming out of the cafeteria, least he yell at Flash or punch him, Clark decided Metropolis needed him. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

J’onn's meditation was interrupted. He hadn't been that the deep in his meditation so it was easy enough to track the source of the anger. There were many of his teammates that J’onn knew to have anger issues but Kal really wasn't one of them. When someone as powerful as Kal-el was this angry, J’onn felt he had to interfere for the safety of his other teammates. Shifting his molecules, J’onn floated down to the transporter room. Superman was so angry he was having difficulty working the controls without crushing them. 

“May I assist you Kal-el?” 

The anger intensified as Kal realized J’onn was there. He turned away and muttered as he walked to the platform. “Sure.” 

“Batman insisted I teach him how to shield his thoughts from me. That is why I could not find him last night.” J’onn said as he worked the controls. 

“I know that. I'm going to metropolis.” Kal’s anger didn't change, and he was clearly avoiding the subject. 

“Kal, why could you not find him with your enhanced vision and other senses?” 

Kal whirled to face J’onn, his eyes tinged to with red. J’onn shifted his molecules until he was too insubstantial for Kal to target. This confirmed J’onn’s belief he needed to interfere. 

“Who are you most angry with Kal? Me, another teammate, or yourself?” 

“I did all I could!” 

“So did all your teammates. Perhaps you are angry at Batman, but reluctant to feel negatively about a missing comrade?” 

“Of course I'm angry at him! If he would communicate with the rest of us it wouldn’t have got so bad! We would have known what we were getting into and gone prepared.” 

“So it is Batman's fault that he rescued you?” 

“Yes! We were rescuing him and he just had to take over!” 

“Ah, this is about Batman's territoriality. I thought it was about the feeling that drug brought out in you. The feelings you work so hard to suppress.” 

“What are you talking about?” Kal’s anger was draining away, even as he tried to establish his own mental shields. 

“Have you come to terms with what you wanted to do to Batman? Green lantern wanted to fight him. Hawkgirl wanted to protect her love interest from him and you. Flash just wanted to know his secrets, as Batman knows Flash’s. You know better than to fight Batman on his turf. He had kryptonite, yet you walked over, close enough to put your hand on his shoulder. What are you going to do?” 

“I was going to pull him to me and kiss him.” 

John would have heard the whisper even if it wasn't spoken. “You rely on your heart for most things, Kal-el. Why do you deny it in this instance?” 

“Fear, J’onn. I'm terrified of rejection from him. I'm scared of losing the hope that it might someday come to pass.” 

“So last night's encounter removed the fear?” 

“No! It made me want to do it in because it scared me. Just like everybody else I wanted to do the thing that terrified me the most, and I loved every minute of it.” 

“So Poison Ivy mixed her love potion with Scarecrow’s fear toxin. Those exposed learned to love fear. An interesting combination.” 

“Interesting J’onn? There was chaos in the city last night. So many people were injured and could have died just because they have no fear for their safety. It was all we could do to save them, and Batman had to be sacrificed to do that much! With Batman as a Guinea pig who knows what they'll come up with next! I've got to find them, stop them and save Bruce.” 

“And what will you do to Batman once you have him?” 

“That’s a different sunrise, J’onn.” Kal-el was a apologizing without saying so, using a Martian expression. 

“I see.” J’onn forgave him the same way. “You'll cross that bridge when you get to it.” 

“Something like that.” Kal-el did not smile; too much weighed on his mind. 

“Very good Kal-el.” A nod of his head and J’onn activated the controls. Satisfied Kal-el would heed his words, J’onn went back to his meditations. He did wonder what it would take to get through to Batman, to make him receptive of Kal-el feelings. But there were some mysteries that confused even ancient aliens with a deep understanding of human nature. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark had been moping for solid work week, and Lois was fed up with it. She'd always felt there was one final clue about Clark she couldn't find. One more synaptic connection and she'd have him figured out. She'd never made that connection, which is why their dating hadn’t worked out. But this level of moping was new, surpassing how he’d been after they'd broken up, and Lois had only one more idea on how to get him out of this funk. 

“Smallville!” Her loud word came with the slapping of a folder on his desk. “It's Friday afternoon and I have a date. Rich, handsome and everything you're not. Admittedly, he's not Superman either, but times are hard and we all have to make do. But it's your lucky day, as I'm handing you a prize winning piece to write. I'll take your thanks now.” 

“I appreciate the gesture, Lois, and I'll get to when I can.” 

“No, you'll get to it now, Smallville! PI & S, out of Gotham, is importing enough biochemicals to destroy the world. And I'm handing you my research on a silver platter.” 

“Who? Biochemicals in Gotham? Brilliant Lois! Thank you, you have no idea what this means to me.” Clark tore open the folder as if the Holy Grail was inside, instead of papers, handwritten notes and a jump drive. 

Leaving him to it, Lois went back to her desk. She had more importance stories to work on, but her instincts had told her this one was right up Clark's ally. Besides she hated Gotham, and this story might require going to that city. She pulled up a blank page to type her article and was distracted by Clark's mutter. 

“PI & S? I can’t believe I forgot about them!” 

That seemed to be all Clark had to say, so Lois started typing. She’d ask later, but she really did have a date tonight. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

PI & S hadn't been so obvious as to put their master plan on legal documents, but a good investigative reporter could track the shipments of biochemicals. Lois had done most of that and now Clark finished it. That Friday night the entire JL descended on an old warehouse in downtown Gotham while Lois was on her date. The building was riddled with asbestosis and lead paint, to most people a terrible health hazard. For the JL the real health threat was the villains they were going after. It also meant Superman couldn’t use his x-ray vision, so they were going in blind. The thugs when down easily, but Poison Ivy and Scarecrow put up a good fight. 

Poison ivy disappeared into her plants, plants which moved of their own accord. While the JL fought the plants, she could sneak up on them. Her kiss got through the gas masks they wore, but Gordon’s men were waiting outside with the antidote. Flash carried injured JL members outside, coincidentally leaving only Superman's to search for Batman. Ivy’s kiss worked on women, Hawkgirl was embarrassed to discover. But at the sight of her gasping for air, Green Lantern mowed down every plant in the place with large green blades. 

Scarecrow saw Ivy fall when her plants did, and chose to run. He left behind as a surprise; liquid fear toxin bursting from the sprinklers. Wonder Woman began to dismantle the sprinklers and their control box while everyone else tried to stay dry. Superman vibrated the liquid off even as he found a way into the basement. 

The basement had been turned into a laboratory and a torture chamber. Superman could smell chemicals and an unwashed human body. A bamboo cage in the far corner held a man who trembled in his uneasy sleep. Bamboo was a strong material but it ripped like paper under Clark’s hands. As gently as he could, Clark laid a hand on the shoulder before him. Panicked eyes turned to face him even as his body tried to crawl away. Clark knew those eyes no matter what the emotion was in them. He didn't know why Bruce had blond streaked hair and purple skin, but he didn't care. 

“Close your eyes, Bruce. I'm going to make it all better.” 

Bruce didn't listen, but he never did. Clark's carefully took him into his arms and Bruce flailed in fear. Trying to hold him with a bruising him, Clark’s grip had been loose. Bruce found his feet and backed toward the corner in a fighting stance. Not knowing what else to do, Clark used his speed and Bruce’s disorientation to get behind Bruce. Batman had taught Clark the sleeper hold and the methods for getting out of it, but Bruce wasn't himself enough to fight properly. When Bruce was unconscious, Clark wrapped him in his cape and took him to the Watchtower. J’onn was waiting in medical but once Clark laid Bruce down on the biobed, it was his turn to wait. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Bruce didn’t want to, but he had to know what he was up against in order to fight it. Expanding his awareness, he felt movement to his left. Slowly cracking open his right eye, Bruce saw gleaming metal and harsh shapes. It was too bright and nothing moved, telling him he was in the artificial world of the Watchtower. Fear flooded through him and he squeezed both eyes shut. 

_Calm yourself, Batman. You are safe, among friends. I will care for you until you are well._

Bruce knew that voice, knew the alien who spoke hated fire. The Watchtower medical bay was something he knew. Without allowing a thought the telepath might read, he rolled to his feet and bolted across the room. Having memorized the layout when it was built, he knew which cabinet held a flammable substance. A drawer to his left held a laser scalpel, an ignition source. J’onn froze and Bruce started edging toward the door. The telepathic alien was doubtless calling for backup. Sure enough, the door opened before Bruce was close enough to trigger the sensors. Impossibly blue and red colors moved toward Bruce with open arms. 

“Bruce it’s OK! You’re on the Watchtower. You’re safe, we only want to help.” 

Superman’s voice broke into a pleading note that broke Bruce’s every rational thought. He had nothing to defend against Superman so he moved to take J’onn hostage. So focused was Bruce, that he failed to notice the syringe floating in midair. When the needle penetrated his bicep Bruce remembered the telepath could also make things float. The drug worked quickly, leaving Bruce to his terrifying dreams. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Batman had been very conscientious about uploading the antidotes to Poison Ivy and Scarecrow’s toxins to the database on the Watchtower. But as this was a new toxin, J’onn decided on a more drastic approach. After taking several samples of Bruce’s blood, J’onn set up the machine that would filter Bruce’s blood and return it to his body. This would require J’onn to stay with Bruce at all times, in order to put him back to sleep if he showed any sign of awakening. It wasn’t a sacrifice for J’onn, as he could meditate here as well as anywhere, once he found a way to get rid of Kal-el. 

Kal-el floated as he paced, so as not to destroy the flooring outside of medical. His regret, fear, and concern came off of him in powerful waves. After a few hours J’onn could no longer feel that terror coming from Batman without a direct effort. He could not even tell if that was because of lessening fears on Batman’s part or Kal-el taking up all his concentration. Checking that Batman was still asleep, J’onn stepped out into the hallway. 

“Kal-el, his body will live. I cannot attend to his mental state with you projecting anxiety at me.” 

“I can’t leave.” Horror stricken at the idea, Kal-el at last came to a standstill. 

“You have to. Is there someone into Gotham we should notify of his safe return?” Kal-el’s guilty look was enough of an answer for J’onn. “Make the notification. Take some time to calm yourself, before you return. Perhaps you should find the Scarecrow so he cannot harm anyone else.” 

“That could take days.” 

“I will notify you of any changes. Now I need you to go, for Bruce’s sake.” 

Slowly, reluctantly, with his head bowed, Kal-el made his way for the exit. J’onn watched him go before returning to Bruce. With Kal-el gone, J’onn could at last focus on Batman. The terror was receding but was still there. The images from Batman’s dreams were too chaotic and confusing for J’onn to make sense of them yet. Floating beside his patient J’onn settled in to meditate. He needed to wait and observe, helping as needed and hoping he wouldn’t be necessary. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Even unconscious, Batman was still a paranoid asshole. Ever since the rescue, John had wanted a peek at the man. He probably would be some pale, camera shy recluse identifiable only through his driver’s license photo, but John didn’t care. He’d gladly spend hours with his friends in the police department running down possibilities, just to have something to hold over the insufferable know-it-all. But Batman had angels on his side, or at least Superman. 

Superman had found Batman and brought him to the Watchtower wrapped in his cape. So no unmasked Batman for John to find. The Watchtower security cameras weren’t up to task of picking out the face amidst folds of fabric carried at full Superman speed to the infirmary. John had spent several hours attempting to coax an image out of them. And then, even with Scarecrow having escaped, Superman had guarded the entrance to the infirmary. Pacing back and forth for hours, until John was ready to give up. At long last Superman exited the Watchtower and John went to the infirmary. J’onn had been floating beside Batman but John had looked around the alien. 

What did he see? Was his patience rewarded with a glimpse of the man he desperately wanted to see? Not really. His hair was streaked blond and black, so John didn’t even have a reliable hair color. Some of the skin visible was white, the rest of was various shades of purple. That annoyingly exposed chin had been enough to know Batman was Caucasian. But something about changing his skin tone made it hard to pick out identifiable features. Were his eyes deep and hollow or did they just have a lot of dye on them? John hadn’t spent much time memorizing those visible lips and now he wished he had. They looked huge and plush now, as if Batman regularly injected collagen in them. John could only wait, and hope the purple got washed off. 

Trips to the infirmary were now a part of John’s routine. Between emergencies, meetings and monitor duty, John would stop by and check on the patient. Soon enough Superman was back, pacing in the air beside the windows. John wondered why J’onn had kicked Superman out, but didn’t ask. Superman was his friend, but John wasn’t the best person for talking about feelings. All things considered, he really hoped Wonder Woman would come by and fix Superman. He didn’t see that, but he was walking by and saw Superman was inside the room. 

Thinking back, John realized it had been four days since the rescue. J’onn was messing around instead of meditating beside his patient, and Batman was starting to move. Guessing they were going to wake him up at last, John settled in to watch. Batman twitched for a while before sitting up with a gasp. John couldn’t hear through the glass, but he knew J’onn and Superman were offering Batman calming words. As Batman was so good at scaring the rest of the league, John thought about jumping in the room and yelling boo. 

_Since you are so concerned about your teammate, would you bring him some soup?_

Angry at getting caught by J’onn, and a little guilty, John went to the cafeteria. Batman wouldn’t be so bad if he would just relax every once in a while. John got a bowl of soup and a piece of bread to carry back to the room. At least he got to go inside, playing waiter to the jerk. Up close, the face now looked familiar but not enough that he could place it. John recognized the way the eyes narrowed to glare at him, though. He glared right back, which perversely enough, seem to cheer Batman up. 

“OK, I’ve helped. Get well, I’ll see you later.” John was trying for a strategic retreat, not feeling it was necessary for him to stand there and watch Batman eat. 

“Stay, Green Lantern.” Batman’s hoarse voice surprised John, but not as much as him wanting John to stay. “Your presence is the only thing keeping Superman from spoon feeding me.” 

Superman managed to look indignant, even as he flushed with the truth of the words. 

John didn’t know what hold Batman had on Superman, but he didn’t like it. He turned a snarl at Batman. “Like you’re so perfect! If you had just told us what was happening we could’ve helped from the beginning. You would rather let your city go crazy around you then ask somebody to catch the civilians falling off the tall buildings.” 

“And if you were competent to catch some, I might have. I expect more of you, ring boy. You’ve got the training to think before you leap. But what did you do when you got there? You went on a date.” 

“You didn’t warn us about the compound in the air!” 

“And if you have the brains of the goose, I wouldn’t have to.” 

John reached for Batman, intending on killing him right then and there. He got a bowl of soup for his troubles, splashing across his face as Batman moved to the other side of the infirmary. Purple man was even slippery in his underwear. But Superman was between them now, eyes red as he held them apart. 

“Green Lantern, don’t you have worked to do?” 

As angry as he had ever been, John edged toward the door. He kept weathered eye on Batman as he did so. Batman managed to watch him leave even as he dismissed him. In a ridiculously calm voice, Batman spoke to Superman. 

“I kept my cool, I only defended myself. Obviously, the fear toxin is not affecting me. Can I go now?” 

The door closed on John’s face as he realized he just been used as a medical test. John didn’t have work to do, but he did have some effigies of Batman to destroy in the workout room. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Early morning telephone calls were not uncommon. What made this one special is that it was on Clark Kent’s phone. It wasn’t the JL for Superman, but an unknown number calling Clark Kent. Expecting a wrong number, Clark sat up to answer it. He went for the ‘just woken up’ voice he should have, instead of the instantly alert voice of Superman. 

“‘ello?” 

“Master Kent, please forgive me for waking you.” 

Not a wrong number, as the owner of that voice made few mistakes. Nor did he make unnecessary phone calls. “Alfred, what’s wrong?” 

“The emergency has passed, sir. I merely wish to speak to you about preventing future occurrences.” 

“I’m not sure I understand.” 

“I have not given enough information for understanding, so it would be surprising if you did, sir.” There was a touch of amusement in Alfred’s voice, and Clark shook his head to make sure he was awake. “I called this early hoping you’d meet me for breakfast. Do you remember the small coffee shop half a block away from the penthouse?” 

“Why are you there, instead of the mansion?” 

“I will explain if you meet me here, at your convenience of course. But I must ask that you listen to the entire story before leaving.” 

“That’s no problem.” Clark was confused Alfred had to ask. Bruce was the only one who thought Clark was an impetuous fool. 

“You say that now, Master Kent. But I must insist that you promise you will not leave for anything other than an emergency after we begin talking.” 

Clark hesitated; it was such a strange request. As with Bruce, Alfred always had his reasons. Bruce’s reasons could be hard to figure out but Alfred’s reasons always had to do with protecting Bruce. “As it happens, I’m just around the corner. Order me a cup of coffee and I’ll meet you there. Also, I promise not to leave until you tell me to.” 

“Very well sir, I will be awaiting your arrival.” 

Hanging up, Clark jumped out of bed and sped into some fresh clothes. He went with a t-shirt and jeans, hoping nobody would connect him with the bad suit wearing reporter in another city. Automatically checking for prying eyes and surveillance cameras, Clark flew to Gotham. A few minutes later he emerged from an ally and headed for the coffee shop in question. 

It was crowded and with people getting ready to start the work day. But in a far corner, with his back to the entrance, sat an elegant, white haired man. He sipped from a cup with a tea bag and an unclaimed cup of coffee sat across from him before an empty chair. It didn’t take super abilities or detective skills to guess this was Alfred. Still, Clark looked before he sat down. It was definitely Alfred, under a very large pair of sunglasses covering both eyes and half of his nose. 

“Morning Alfred. What can I do for you?” This was the least of Clark’s questions, but he had to let Alfred answer them in his own time. 

“Good morning sir.” Alfred acknowledged him with a nod. 

Clark took a sip of his coffee to find it had been adjusted to his preference. He wondered if Alfred kept a database of food and beverage preferences of Bruce’s acquaintances, or if Alfred had access to the Superman file. “It’s perfect, Alfred.” 

“Thank you sir.” Apparently this formality was enough to please Alfred, for he reached up and pulled off the sunglasses. His kind eyes were swollen and black, and the sunglasses had hidden a white cast on his nose. 

A quick x-ray of the nose showed it was broken, but treated. Clark curled his fingers into his thighs and tried not to think about what he would do to whoever would hurt such kindly gentleman. “Who did this to you?” 

“That is not the issue.” Alfred spoke in fluid Italian, so most people around them wouldn’t understand. That he didn’t have to ask if Clark understood showed he had enough access to know Superman spoke all Earth languages. “My concern is what caused him to do this.” 

“You’re carefully not saying that Bruce did this, aren’t you?” 

Alfred held up a long index finger in a wait gesture, and Clark realized he had risen to his feet. Unsure what he was planning on doing, Clark sat back down. 

“Last night, after he was declared well, I was helping Master Bruce remove the skin dye. He was beginning to look like Master Bruce again when I mentioned that not removing the suit would be more effective than the skin dye. He began to fight me off, but one elbow to the face was debilitating enough.” Alfred had another sip at his tea, a slight pause before he continued his story. 

Clark forced his fingers to uncurl before he damaged something. 

“Before I could properly protest, Master Bruce had me in the car and on the way to the hospital. I only just manage to convince him to wear a hooded jacket to cover up the dye. He hovered around and babbled at the doctors. My broken nose was bleeding into my mouth and I had to tell the doctors a decent cover story.” Another sip tea to calm Alfred, another pause to drive Clark insane. “He panicked, sir, and Master Bruce does not panic.” 

“OK, I’ll admit that’s terrifying, the idea of Bruce panicking. It’s almost as unbelievable as the idea of Bruce hurting you. Neither of you show it very well, but I know you love each other.” 

“Perhaps my reserved nature was not the best role model for him, but I did the best I could, sir.” 

“Alfred you did a wonderful job, don’t ever think otherwise!” Now Clark was holding up a placating hand, fearful of damaging Alfred’s emotional control. “I wasn’t condemning you, I was just trying to figure out his motivations.” 

“So is Master Bruce. After I was released from hospital he drove me to the penthouse. He’s insistent that I stay there until he figures out what is wrong with him. I intend to get some sleep and then return to the manor. I simply hoped you would provide some insight into this incident.” 

“No idea. J’onn said he was clear of all known toxins from those two. Do what you need to do, Alfred. I am going to talk to Bruce.” 

“Master Kent? Are you angry at him for hitting me?” 

“Kind of, but mostly concerned about him. I need to find out what’s going on and fix it.” 

“Thank you Master Kent. As per your promise, you may go now.” The polite dismissal sounded even more polite as Alfred switched back to British accented English. 

Clark grinned as he stood, letting Alfred know he was in control. Forcing the calmness he did not feel, Clark carried his coffee cup out the door. He drained it and tossed it in a trash can before turning into the alley he had emerged from. Rocketing upward, he was over the manor in seconds. Peeking, he found Bruce was in the cave. The sensors noticed him enter the cave but it was when they stopped that he knew Bruce was worried. Bruce had turned off the sensors without making a comment about his sensors being better than Superman. Trying to hurry without looking like he was hurrying, Clark landed in the medical area. 

“Hey Bruce, surprised you’re up and working.” 

“Why were you looking for me if you didn’t expect to find me?” 

“Just an early morning flight. What’s got you up?” 

“Just work stuff.” 

Clark repressed a sigh, it was clear Bruce didn’t believe him anymore than he believed Bruce. Clark moved until he was behind Bruce, reading over his shoulder. Clark didn’t know what to make of the readings before him, only that the baseline and subject one did not match up. “So why is subject one so far off the baseline?” 

“Do not pretend you know what you’re looking at.” 

“Explain it to me than.” Clark lean forward, and let his chest touch Bruce’s back. 

Pausing the display, Bruce stood and stalked out of the medical bay. He went to a table in the experimental area, one covered with darts and vials. Bruce began rearranging things out of his meticulous piles. Clearly a distraction to keep his hands busy, and hopefully avoid answering Clark’s questions. But Clark could ask questions about anything, he was a trained reporter after all. 

“What are you coating the darts with?” Work questions were neutral ground, able to make the bat relax a bit. 

“The red tips are knockouts drugs and the blue are paralytics.” Bruce moved to the other side of the table as Clark walked toward him. 

“Like the paralytics you used on Flash?” 

“Exactly. The problem is determining inadequate dosage. I was trying for an hour of effectiveness, allowing for variations in height and weight. The dose I gave Flash should have only lasted for 20 minutes, or an hour on a normal human metabolism. I haven’t had time to test the sedative nor figure out a way to install them in the gloves.” 

“They’re so tiny, how can you even tell the red from the blue?” Once more, Clark was looking over Bruce’s shoulder. 

“Infrared setting on the cowl lenses.” A half hearted hand gesture indicated a pair of goggles on a nearby table, goggles with lenses for eye pieces. Bruce slipped away again, as if he needed distance from Clark. 

Clark shifted his eyes and saw the colored tips. Carefully, he picked one up. Bruce had turned his back to Clark as he looked for a new distraction, so the dart went easily into his neck. He tried to fight it, but Bruce was too good at chemistry. Clark scooped him up and carried him back to the med bay. 

“Don’t worry, Bruce, I’ll time how long it works on you.” With Bruce asleep, Clark went to study Bruce’s test results. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Bruce really, really hated waking up without knowing where he was. Even if he wasn’t in danger, he needed to know who he was when he woke up. If Brucie Wayne blacked out and Batman woke up, it might raise questions. Though if Batman was knocked unconscious and Brucie woke up, he’d probably get killed. So now he ran through the list of things he knew. The bed was a bed, it was large and comfortable, the sheets could have been silk. He’d been in the cave when Clark knocked him unconscious, with one of his own darts and don’t think he was going to let that go! 

Um, right, so he could be in the master bedroom, Clark having carried him up and then stripped him to, yes, even his underwear was gone. Maybe Alfred had come home and was taking care of him? It didn’t smell like the manor, no furniture polish, history and responsibility seeping into his every pore. Sentimental nonsense, that was his instincts telling him he wasn’t in the manor. And whatever he thought he deserved for hitting Alfred, the comfort told him he wasn’t in Arkham either. 

“Don’t bother peeking Bruce, I know you’re awake.” Clark’s voice, speaking to Bruce and not Batman or Brucie. Bruce was as safe as he was likely to get. 

Opening his eyes to blink against the ridiculously bright light, Bruce realized he was in the Fortress. The lack of personal objects said this was a guest bedroom, but Bruce didn’t see his clothes either. Clark’s room for naked guests? The man in question was wearing jeans and a tee shirt, sitting in midair while he played on his cell phone. He wasn’t looking at Bruce and Bruce was very comfortable with that. What he was not comfortable with was the lack of knowledge. 

“You going to explain this?” 

Clark kept his eyes on his phone as he responded. “You are not well. You are a danger to yourself and Alfred. I’m keeping you here until you’re safe to be around.” 

“Faulty logic. You do not know what is wrong with me, so you cannot fix me. As the incident occurred in a different environment, it may be specific to that environment and won’t be replicated here.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong Bruce. I do know what’s wrong with you.” 

“What?” One word, but it held amusement at Clark’s expense and a challenge to his intellect. 

Clark looked up from the phone to frown at Bruce and his mind games. “Do you not know or are you trying to hide the answer from me?” 

“You really should have played 20 questions before you brought me here.” 

“Bruce, I know you’re an independent cuss, you tried to diagnose and fix yourself rather than call for medical assistance. That also tells me you had an idea what was wrong and were too embarrassed to ask for help. While you were asleep, 64 minutes and 28 seconds by the way, I went over your test results. I have my own theories, so who’s going to explain first?” 

Bruce sat up, piled the pillows behind his back, and settled back. He worked hard to look completely unconcerned with Clark’s analysis. 

“Seriously, Bruce? Only you and me around for hundreds miles, no recording equipment, and you can’t talk to me?” 

Bruce tried to look innocent, but he never been good at that look. Even Brucie had to add lust to it to make it passable. 

Clark sighed heavily and pocketed his phone before he spoke again. “That test you were looking at when I showed up? I knew patient one didn’t match the baseline, but the results only made sense when I compare them to how you normally felt. On your medical computer I found your previous baseline response to the emotional stimulation test. Your normal emotional responses are so far away from the baseline that your exposure to PI &S gas has moved you closer to what you’re supposed to feel. God Bruce, how screwed up are you?” 

“I’m not screwed up enough to kidnap friends in order to look at their private medical records.” More fake innocence, to hide real irritation. 

“Friends usually tell each other when they are so screwed up they hit their fathers.” 

“Alfred’s not my father.” Clark should never push that button, and Bruce decided to remind him of that. 

“Not biologically, but you still hit him and tried to fix everything yourself.” 

“That’s what I do. I fix problems, like Gotham’s crime rate and the mistakes of the JL.” 

“We never claimed to be perfect. You have impossible standards and, and you, you are attacking the JL to distract me from your problems. Any shrink you went to would need a shrink of his own within the hour.” Clark turned away, massaging at his temples. 

The smirk on Bruce’s face was much more natural than a look of innocence. A few more emotional pushes, and Clark would kick him out of the Fortress. But Clark was such a nice guy, he’d have to give Bruce a ride home. 

“On your new data, I noticed that the response changed to fear for several emotions. Lust, hope, faith, trust all changed to fear in your responses.” Clark turned back, his eyes sad. “Ivy and Scarecrow made you afraid of love.” 

“Not that big a deal, I’ll just be careful around Alfred.” If Clark just left it there, things would be fine. Hoping for a distraction, Bruce pulled up the sheet to look at his body. “Where are my clothes?” 

A scandalized Clark took a moment to process Bruce’s statement, and ignored the clothing question. “It’s a huge deal. What are you going to do when you fall in love?” 

“I won’t, it’ll be too scary, save a lot of time.” Bruce could see Clark was startled and outraged. Adding a dose of anger would be an effective distraction, if Clark gave him an opening. 

“You’re happy about this?” 

“I’ll be more efficient.” Bruce allowed a genuine smile onto his features; life would be easier if he could get rid of the desire to have someone share his life. 

“Are you sure that’s not just the fear talking?” 

“Fear doesn’t talk, or don’t you remember all the years you were too tongue tied to ask Lois out? Speaking of which, are you still crying yourself to sleep over the way she dumped you? How many dates with Brucie would it take to get her out of those lacey panties?” 

“Leave her alone!” Clark’s pointing finger was an inch from Bruce’s chest in a flash. The slow, deep, calming breath Clark took needed longer to emerge. He reached out and gently tapped Bruce’s chest. “You’re not going to get me so angry that I’ll stop worrying about you, so quit trying that.” 

Bruce went back to his flawed innocent look, hoping Clark was unaware of the increased heartbeat under his finger. Why was Clark holding his finger on Bruce’s chest, if not to feel his blood pressure change? 

“People get over fear by confronting it, especially you. I’m going to bring you food, clean up after you, and generally take care of you until you don’t fear Alfred’s love anymore.” 

“Work better if I was around Alfred.” 

“You’re in complete control now, right? So why is your heart doing a quick march?” 

“Cause I normally turn jerks into a fine powder, and you’ve caught me without my grinder.” 

“Your glowing, green grinder was in the cave, yet you didn’t go for it then. And your heart is beating faster, as if you didn’t want me asking these questions.” 

“I don’t do interviews.” 

“It’s a conversation!” 

“You kidnapped me, so I think it qualifies as an interrogation.” 

“Now you’re making yourself angry to confuse my perception of your physical cues!” 

A quick move shoved the finger away as Bruce slid out the other side of the bed. “I’m mad because I’m mad! It’s not about you, so go get my pants.” 

“I didn’t think it was about me! Unless it is?” 

Holding the sheet around him, Bruce found the door. When it didn’t automatically open for him, Bruce had to turn back to Clark. “It’s about me and my flaws. Get over yourself.” 

“I can’t get over you!” Clark began pacing, his body trying to keep up with his mind. “You claim getting rid of love would improve things! Don’t you love Gotham, and that’s why you’ve given it your life? What happens when you fear it more than love it?” 

“Not going to find out with you serving me tea!” 

“You want me to get Flash to do it?” This was said as Clark paced away from Bruce, an idle remark thrown into things. 

Bruce considered it a serious suggestion. It would be a lot easier to escape from Flash, but a lot harder to put up with him until the escape. Maybe he could talk Clark into staying with Plastic Man? He’d be free one threatening glare after Clark left. 

“You’re considering it!” Clark had come to a stop, facing Bruce with a hurt look. “Probably got someone in mind, someone you like better than me.” Clark gave a small laugh and tried for a joke. “Or are you afraid of me?” 

Bruce forced a laugh, as he didn’t want Clark to follow this line of questioning. “So scary, a grown man afraid of a rock!” 

“Actually, you’ve pushed me away since you woke up on the Watchtower.” Clark was studying him, piecing together the puzzle Bruce was trying to hide. “In the cave, you kept backing away from me; I thought it was a personal space issue.” 

“It was! Invade my space and leave bleeding.” Batman’s growl thrummed in the crystals, but Clark ignored it. He kept looking at Bruce as he talked, so Bruce could see the disbelief on his face. Bruce figured the disgust and amusement would show up soon, when Clark realized Bruce was just as gullible as the rest of the human race. 

“In the infirmary, you spoke to J’onn and argued with John. You even worked with Alfred to remove the dye, only reacting when he spoke of his concerns for you. But you’ve ignored, belittled, and angered me ever since I found you. If you could have run from me in that cage, you would have.” 

Bruce kept his mouth shut, not knowing how to distract Clark anymore. Keeping his hands from scrabbling at the closed door behind him was a lot harder. 

“Your pulse is racing, you blood pressure is up, and I can almost smell the adrenaline pumping into your system. You’re terrified right now, and I’m the only one here.” 

“It’s anger!” 

“It’s flight or fight, Bruce. You’re not afraid of falling in love because you’ve already fallen. With me, you’ve fallen in love with me.” It was a statement of fact; Bruce’s soul laid out for a clinical examination. 

It wasn’t as bad as Bruce expected, and he managed a deep breathe before Clark beamed at him. There was an instant where Bruce thought pure sunlight was filling the room, and then Clark was in front of him, reaching for him, as if to squeeze the life out of him with affection, steal his breath with kisses, hold him back, separate him from the mission! The elbow to the side of Clarks head confused him, but the knee to the groin got his attention as Bruce fled to the other side of the room. 

Bruce fought the terror in him, keeping an eye on Clark as he tried to breathe. Clark knelt on the sheet Bruce had dropped in the struggle, holding his crotch and looking thoughtful. 

“I didn’t know that could hurt that much.” Clark said a little breathlessly. 

“Vulnerable area, but the strength I used on you would have permanently injured a human.” 

“How did you determine that?” 

“I think a lot.” 

“About my, uh, vulnerable areas?” 

“About you, the body only just hidden in that bright suit, and your cock, Clark.” 

Clark was grinning now, his discomfort forgotten. 

“Do you taste as good as you smell? How would it feel to be inside you, to have you inside me?” 

“Only one way to find out!” Clark said as he got to his feet, but his forward moment was stopped when Bruce held up his hands to ward him off. “Bruce?” 

“Before, I had good reasons and a healthy dose of fear to keep me from telling you. Now I’m terrified of you! Every good reason is now a fact I can’t dispute. I planned to fix this without telling you, but you had to keep pushing.” 

Clark shrugged at Bruce’s glare. “You taught me that. But Bruce, you can’t fix love.” 

“Starve it out.” A shrug, to help the pieces of Bruce’s breaking heart settle. “The JL stays out of Gotham, and I stay out of the JL. All requests for my help will come through Diana, and you will never speak to me outside of a world destroying emergency.” 

“Bruce?” Clark seemed to have more to say, but nothing came out. 

“Get my clothes and take me home.” 

Clark shook his head, but slipped out the door all the same. 

Bruce could have waited on the bed, but instead he slid down the wall to sit. Wants were different than needs, and he knew that when he started training to be Batman. This was just an incredibly painful reminder that he didn’t need love, one that had him hiding his eyes from the cameras Clark had to have. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Time could be a tricky thing. Bruce wasn’t sure how long it took him to get his emotions under control, and all that was before he started counting the seconds. Then came pushups, sit-ups, martial art kata’s, until Bruce was physically exhausted enough to sleep. Instead, he paced and tried to convince the Fortress to let him out. As much as Bruce hated the waiting, he dreaded finding out what Clark was up to. Clark was as stubborn as Bruce, one of the many reasons they wouldn’t work as a couple, but he had to be planning something. 

Probably something romantic, like walks in the Fortress arboretum and a picnic for two at the North Pole. Romantic twaddle that Brucie would pull on dates he wanted information out of. Bruce could fake a change of heart if that was all he needed to get out of here. That was Brucie’s talent after all, fake an interest to serve a higher goal. Granted, it would be harder because he actually cared about Clark, but Bruce had never been one to take the easy route. 

Trying to think up other Midwestern courtship rituals he’d have to endure, Bruce went to take a shower. The fortress was set up to automatically dry people after a shower, so Bruce didn’t even have a towel to add to his wardrobe. Once he was dry, the fortress automatically opened the shower stall for him. He was only startled to see Clark, but angry at the look on Clark’s face. It was the dopey look of a man in love with what he was seeing. Bruce put his right index finger directly in Clark’s line of sight, and then slowly trailed it down his skin to his cock. Once assured of Clark’s attention, Bruce gave him a one handed gesture that he was sure not to misinterpret. 

Flushing, Clark made himself look at Bruce’s eyes. “Knock knock! Didn’t mean to interrupt your angry time, but I’ve come to tell you what I’ve done.” 

“About time.” 

“It’s your own fault! I told the fortress what I needed to do, and it didn’t understand. You’ve successfully confused the most advanced artificial intelligence on this side of the universe!” 

Bruce’s only reaction was a hurry up gesture. 

“You said you could starve it out, so it holds true I can feed it until it grows. Feed a fever, starve a cold, or at least that’s what will work for us. I’ve set it up so you can go anywhere you want in the Fortress, but you can’t leave. No matter where you go or where I am, the Fortress will project a real time image of me, to you. When I’m home or anywhere that I’m alone, I get to see you. I thought about setting it up so I can see you all the time too, but you’re very distracting when naked.” 

“I suppose clothes never entered your mind?” 

“Sure they did, but I liked this idea even more!” 

“I’m in love with the idea of me going home!” 

“You will, once you get over this silly fear.” 

“I’m not afraid of your hologram, Clark.” 

“Really? Then why haven’t you moved out of the shower?” 

“Habit. I normally put clothes on once I get out of the shower.” 

“I had a robot put clothing on the bed. Walk through me and you can wear it.” 

A simple thing to do really, walk through a projection of light. It had no substance and could not harm him in any way, and yet Bruce’s feet remained in the shower. Fittingly, a creature of the night had to gather his courage to run through beam of light. But he had to, even though this was worse than facing the Joker unarmed. A gulp and a sprint, and Bruce was almost to the wall farthest from the bathroom before he managed to stop. He was panting as if he had run for miles and he couldn’t turn a defiant snarl on the hologram. 

“I lied about the clothes, you lied about not being afraid of me. Makes us even in that, that ‘not talking about our feelings’ thing.” Now Clark held up a hand to stop Bruce from speaking. “I know you don’t want to talk about feelings, no guy ever does. But I listened to you talking about me and what you wanted of me. Before you even let me speak you were planning to end it. I’m not giving up on you Bruce, because I love you.” 

A few steps backward had Bruce slamming into the wall behind him. 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s terrifying to you, but we love each other. You can’t cut me out of your heart and you can’t cut me out of your life, because each time you try I’ll sew it back together.” The hologram took a step closer, and Bruce had nowhere to run. “Immersion therapy that never ends, because I have been desperate to immerse myself in you forever.” 

His mind wasn’t functioning, Bruce couldn’t think through the emotions Clark was bringing up in him. But in amidst that terror and confusion there was a spark of want. This was something Bruce had wanted for a long time and tried to deny. Holding Clark was no longer secret dream, but something achievable. The only thing in his way was the artificial emotion his enemies had planted there. It didn’t matter if he woke up as Bruce, Brucie, or Batman because none of them would allow their enemies to win. 

“For you Clark, I will overcome this.” 

Clark began to spin, rocketing himself upwards as he did so, the triumphant dance of one at home in the air. The Fortress had trouble keeping the image level with Bruce, and it was disorienting for Bruce to not have a background for the motion. When Clark finally stopped, it was to offer Bruce a goofy grin. 

“Good thing the rest of the world is still asleep and can’t see me acting foolish!” 

“Nobody except the naked me floating beside you.” 

“Oh, right. I really did leave you something on the bed. Go get it, I can wait.” 

Bruce knew Clark’s fake innocence when he heard it, knew he was being set up, but still made his way to the bed while keeping as much distance as possible between him and Clark’s hologram. The tiny blue patch of cloth didn’t grow much when it was unfolded, and once it was stretched across both index fingers Bruce turned the show to Clark. 

“A thong?” 

“Wouldn’t want anything important to get frozen off if the Fortress heating fails.” 

“A thong with your house shield on it?” 

“Possessive streak. Besides, the AI had a hard enough day without having me explain to it what assless chaps are.” 

“All chaps are assless; it’s a feature, not a bug, you sexual deviant.” 

“Me? I’m not the one who would rather walk around naked than wear a perfectly good pair of underwear!” 

Bruce slingshoted the thong into the hologram, and Clark laughed. A quick barrel roll and Clark talked as he flew into metropolis, the morning sun lighting his features. At his apartment Clark made a quick breakfast even as a robot brought Bruce his. Having breakfast together this way was strange, but enjoyable. Clark’s every movement startled Bruce, but Clark pretended not to notice. Clark said goodbye as he left the apartment, as he was about to be among people and he wouldn’t be able to see Bruce. Bruce settled on the bed, and watched Clark work. Reading e-mail and making telephone calls were not a spectator sport for a reason, and Bruce was soon asleep. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Bruce woke up with Superman saving people from a burning building, then ate lunch with Clark. Later, Bruce joined him on patrol and shouted unheard commands at him. During supper, Clark was treated to an exacting description of what he could have done better. Then Clark was sent to Gotham, squeezed into a batsuit and told to protect Bruce’s City. The grudging respect Clark had for Poison Ivy and Scarecrow expanded exponentially. Three nights of patrol and Superman had a healthy fear of Gotham’s villains and an increased amount of respect for the human who dared to take them on. Still, it took a week to get back to the familiar footing of coworkers, teammates. 

As Clark had to pull double duty to protect Gotham he didn’t have much time to spend in the Fortress, and yet they were closer than ever after spending all this time together. At long last they talked of more than work, of childhoods and wished for futures. Bruce saw all his objections falling away and got to where he could sit beside the hologram without breaking into a sweat. In fact, he got so comfortable that when he saw his chance to revenge that dart incident, he took it. 

Lois and Clark were investigating a high class brothel. She got them into the corporate offices and stashed Clark in a broom closet to flirt her way into the president’s office. She was physically safe, as these people had no history of violent crimes and even if they had she had just shoved Superman in the closet. He could listen in on her from orbit, but now he was physically alone and Bruce was visible. While Clark made some notes, Bruce slipped on the thong. 

“Hello, Clark.” 

Clark smiled up at him from where he sat on a bucket but before he could respond, Bruce started dancing. It was hard to do strip dance with only one article of clothing so Bruce went for the bump and grind of a lap dancer. The bouncing of his house shield seemed to be hypnotizing Clark, until one enthusiastic pelvic thrust burst the side string. Clark’s hand grabbed for it, and disappeared into the hologram that Bruce was to him. A second later Clark realized what Bruce was doing. 

“You tease!” 

“You shouldn’t tranq a man with his own darts.” 

“But, I’m at work!” 

“I’ll tell the owner it was part of your immersion therapy.” Owning the _Daily Planet_ had its perks, including keeping certain people employed. But now Bruce was grinding on lap that couldn’t feel it. Letting his head drop back to where the shoulder should have been Bruce whispered at Clark. “Or didn’t you say you wanted to be immersed in me?” 

Even with only the image of a naked Bruce writhing on his lap, Clark was helpless. He barely got his pants open before his erection ripped through them. A few quick strokes that went through Bruce’s crotch as well, and Clark reached his orgasm. He sat back and panted until the doorknob rattled and Bruce disappeared. With his super speed he got back into his pants but still looked a mess when Lois entered the closet. She asked if Clark had claustrophobia, and dragged him where she wanted him. Clark went quietly, as he was planning his revenge. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark’s elderly neighbor was on the apartment elevator when he got done for the day, and he was required by Boy Scout law to help her with her groceries. If she talked so long the Bruce lost interest and went back to attempting to rewrite the programming on the Fortress’s AI, that wasn’t Clark’s fault. It was Clark’s fault that he could tell the Fortress’s AI what to do in an email, but he thought Batman would approve of that measure, just in case it was needed to save the world someday. Clark hadn’t planned on using it to annoy and/or seduce anybody, but he wasn’t afraid to try something new. 

Clark unloaded his groceries and changed clothes while Bruce sat and worked on an invisible computer. Nobody could multitask like Bruce, but when all his concentration was on something, it was intense to watch. Bruce finally looked up, with suspicious eyes, when Clark spoke in Kryptonian. 

_“Initiate program: dinner date.”_

“I don’t know what you have in mind, but I feel underdressed.” Bruce said, carefully looking over a formally dressed Clark. 

“You like the tux then?” 

“I have two like it.” 

“Probably why Alfred recommended it to me.” 

“Stop trying to steal my butler.” 

“I’m just borrowing his fashion advice.” 

“He ordered one that actually fits you, unlike most of Kent’s clothes.” 

“You just said I have a nice body. I’ve never heard such high praise from you.” 

“Get naked and maybe I’ll think of something nicer to say.” 

“Don’t be such a tease, Bruce. One spark of genuine lust from you, and my sonic boom will break every window from here to there.” 

Bruce looked away, embarrassed that his body wasn’t responding that way. 

Clark was really glad he hadn’t told Bruce about the medical readings that continuously floated above Bruce’s head. Bruce didn’t need to know just how closely Clark was watching his reactions to things, or how the halo of readings made Bruce angelically beautiful. “Follow the robot Bruce, we’re going out for supper.” 

As if in apology for his emotions, Bruce followed the robot without complaint. Bruce was led to a room with only one piece of furniture. Bruce gave Clark a suspicious look before checking the lounging couch for hidden devices. 

Clark found himself babbling as Bruce looked. “I tried to explain to the AI that it was the kind of couch ancient Romans lounge about on in all those movies, but it gave me a very polite ‘says you’ back. Had to find measurements and pictures online for the AI to figure it out. The AI’s knows almost everything about Krypton and Earth, but it still has trouble making some connections.” 

“Want me to fix that for you?” Bruce asked as he settled onto the couch, but he stretched and got comfortable in just the right way to make Clark forget the question. 

When Bruce was still, Clark thanked all the gods for his photographic memory. The robot had returned with a tray of the foods Clark had selected, so Clark found his words. _”Phase two.”_

The lights went off and stars were projected into the dark room. While Bruce was adjusting to supper in space, the AI synchronized Clark’s image with the robot. Now when Clark picked a cherry from his plate, the robot picked a cherry. When Bruce looked at the movement, his fear response told Clark that Bruce was seeing his hologram manipulated solid objects. Bruce’s strong hands curled around the edges of the couch as the cherry was held before his lips. There was hesitation, and time for the medical readout to show Bruce calming down, before his lips opened. 

Accepting the invitation, Clark began to feed Bruce. Finger foods and bits of fruit slowly began to trail over exposed skin before being offered to Bruce. As Bruce chewed the food given to him by the disguised robot, Clark would eat the piece in his hand. After a particularly juicy bite of fruit left a trail down Bruce’s chest and stomach, Clark saw the flaw in his plan: the robot didn’t have a tongue. It must have shown on his face, for Bruce grabbed another piece. Bruce dragged it further down himself then Clark had dared, along muscular thighs. Bruce got it back to his mouth, and sucked the juice out of it. The noise he made sucking on it covered the sound of Clark’s fly opening, but Bruce still noticed. 

Bruce gave Clark a new look and started moving before Clark found the word to describe that look. Moving the food tray until Clark’s erection was on it, Bruce knelt to eat off of it. “Evil Bruce! You’re evil!” 

Bruce looked up, the tip of Clark’s cock half an inch from his moist lips. “Maybe just a little evil.” 

Evil Bruce dropped his head for more licentious eating. Clark was left with only his hand and the image of Bruce’s head noisily working down there. It was enough. Enough for now, anyway. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark soon found he could masturbate to anything Bruce did, the problem was trying not to let Bruce know that. Bruce, gloriously naked, working through his complex and rigorous physical regime? Hot. Bruce focused and intense while he worked on the computer? Nerdy and hot. Bruce meditating, running through mental exercises as old as the human race? Nerdy and metaphysically hot enough to inflame the most physical aspect of a man. Bruce and his mind games on Clark? Nerdy and hot as a solar flare. Bruce when he was actively trying to turn Clark on? Hotter than the sun, and Clark knew that for a fact. 

Maybe it started out as revenge or a game, but Bruce still meant to win. Bruce catalogued every tiny thing that Clark enjoyed, and found ways to use them to drive Clark half crazy. Dirty talk made Clark perk up a bit? Then every time Clark was alone, Bruce was there, whispering wicked things in his ears. A day of this, and Clark made sure he was only alone when he had time to jerk off. 

And maybe Clark would occasionally put his erection in Bruce’s hand as a hello. It wasn’t Clark’s fault that working with invisible crystals put Bruce’s hands in the perfect position for a hand job. It was Bruce’s fault that Clark was developing an exhibitionist streak, that much was for certain. Bruce was always turning Clark on, so Clark was trying to return the favor. Bruce wasn’t responding, so Clark was trying new things when he masturbated; pinching, slapping, squeezing, spreading, floating, anything he could think of to keep Bruce’s attention on him. 

As much as he was taking things into his own hands, (as Clark thought of it because he couldn’t even think of sexual things anymore without Bruce’s voice saying them in his head and making him need some alone with Bruce time) Clark thought he should have been more relaxed. Instead, he could turn coal to diamonds with his butt cheeks. He had Lois convinced he had developed claustrophobia, as he needed a partner to go to the supply closet. Trying to get a group to shower after a particularly messy JL operation hadn’t won him any favors there. Flash suggested a water fight and GL asked if Clark needed the infirmary. Only J’onn had understood, and he was about as close to laughing as he ever got. 

Clark feared the point of this thing was getting lost in his lust. He loved Bruce more than ever, but Bruce wasn’t ready to be in the same room as the real Clark yet. Any spikes in Bruce’s readings didn’t come with the desired redirection of blood flow. 

_Erection,_ Bruce’s voice echoed in Clark’s brain. _Pitching a tent, hoping you’ll help me with it._

Yeah, Clark thought, I’m so screwed I should at least get some actual screwing out of it. 

_Fucking, Clark. Come on, say it with me, do it with me!_

“Clark, you’re so big and strong. Would you go get me a ream of paper?” A real voice, trying to lure Clark into helping her. 

“Sure, Kitty.” Clark agreed before he quite got his head away from imaginary Bruce’s words, so imaginary Bruce didn’t stop talking. 

_You want to ream my ass, don’t you? Pin me under you and pound into me until I break?”_

Clark closed his eyes and leaned on the door behind him, until a steady inhalation told him he wasn’t alone. Opening his eyes was a mistake, as Bruce was the only well lit thing in the supply closet. He was in some weird yoga pose that rested all his weight on his left hand and the left side of his foot in a sideways t shape, but kept his back and ass to Clark. Floating silently forward, Clark searched his pockets for the tissues he’d taken to carrying around. Besides the poor cleaning crew, what would Bruce say about Clark leaving DNA everywhere? 

_Give it to me, all of it. I know what to do with your cum._

“Bruce!” It was a strained whisper, but it got the real Bruce to break his yoga pose and turn to face Clark. Not finding a tissue, Clark used the seconds to drop his pants; he could wipe up with his underwear and hopefully no one would notice. 

“You’re always so happy to see me Clark.” The self satisfied smirk had Clark reaching for himself. 

“Smallville!” Clark whirled at the call, forgetting Lois was in another room, forgetting he was in the crowded confines of the supply closet. His erection slammed into the metal shelves. Pain in his vulnerable area distracted him and grabbing for his unfastened pants kept him from stopping the shelves from falling. Behind him, Bruce was laughing but other people were heading for the supply closet. Pulling his pants up, Clark lay on his stomach. Embarrassment wilted away his erection, as he waited for the shelves to be removed from his back by concerned coworkers. 

A half hour of trying to explain he had no idea what happened and he wasn’t hurt lead to an hour of signing paperwork that he wasn’t going to sue and Clark Kent was the official laughing stock of the paper again. When he saw someone else enter the men’s room, Clark excused himself from Perry and the lawyers. The presence of Jeff, the sports reporter, at the urinal kept Bruce from showing up but let Clark have a moment to think. 

He needed to talk to Bruce, find out if this was working, see if he could release Bruce into the wilds of Gotham yet. Talk, the thing Bruce was using sex to distract him from, because Bruce hated talking. Clark was still trying to decide on how to make Bruce talk to him when Jeff left. Clark couldn’t help the disgusted noise he made when he realized Jeff left without washing his hands. Clark was immune to most diseases, but he still washed his hands. 

“What was that?” Bruce asked. 

Clark practiced not looking at Bruce as he replied, hoping it would prevent lust induced brain freeze. “Nothing. What are you doing?” 

“Just adding a few recipes to the Fortress database.” 

“The Fortress knows how to make all Earth foods, so you only have to update those files with preferred variations.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

There was amusement in Bruce’s tone, but the men’s room door opened before Clark could ask about it. Jimmy smiled when he saw Clark leaning against the sink. 

“I think they want you back in the Chief’s office, but I’m not sure.” 

“Why aren’t you sure, Jimmy?” 

“He told me to ask if you’d fallen in.” 

“I didn’t fall in the toilet, I might be that klutzy, but I’m too big anymore.” Giving Jimmy a pat on the shoulder as he walked by, headed for Perry’s office. 

While the lawyer talked, Clark considered Bruce. He hadn’t complained about the food before, so why this sudden interest in recipes? He’d been amused at something, maybe at Clark’s assumption it was a recipe for food? What other kinds of things had recipes? Making food was kind of like mixing basic ingredient like molecules or chemicals, did chemists call them recipes? Bruce was very good at chemistry… 

“Kent! Are you coming down with something? You look green!” 

“I might be a little sick to my stomach, Chief.” 

“Don’t call me chief, and take the afternoon off.” 

“I’ll do that, thank you!” Clark stood, and got a mental image of Bruce with a Kryptonian chemistry set. “Maybe tomorrow too, Chief?” 

“Only if you don’t sue, now get out of here.” 

Clark did get out of there; a tiny bit quicker then was humanly possible. He managed to keep from hitting sonic speeds by watching Bruce taste samples of whatever he’d made. Clark decided if he ever had to do anything like this again, he’d find a way to see what Bruce was interacting with. A very smug Bruce carried something as he walked through the Fortress, and Clark went sonic over a remote area of Canada. 

“I’m in my room, Clark.” Smug, evil, and devious Bruce said as he sprawled across a flat surface. 

Clark still slowed down as he entered the Fortress, out of trepidation over what Bruce had planned. Bruce was in his room and the AI shut off the holograms as they got into the same room at long last. “Bruce, what are you up to?” 

“So suspicious! I’d say it was about time, but you only ever seem suspicious of me.” 

“If you were evil, I’d have some idea of how to deal with you.” 

Bruce smirked at that, and pulled a small jar out from under his pillow. “You keep thinking that, Superman. But as I’m not evil, tell me what you think of my concoction.” 

Hesitantly, Clark moved closer to the bed. Bruce’s readings were all over the place, but he wasn’t pulling back from Clark. With one finger, Clark got the tiniest amount he could from the jar. A deep sniff only told him it would be odorless to humans, so Clark touched his finger to his tongue. More confused than ever, Clark resorted to asking. “Cherry and coconut jelly?” 

“Close, farm-boy.” Bruce stood to hold the jar in his left hand and in front of Clark. Keeping his hand there Bruce walked around until he was behind Clark. Bruce’s right hand completed the circle by coming around to work Clark’s belt. 

The physical response that had stayed away out of concern for what Bruce was up to came back instantly. Bruce touched it, Clark’s erection, and Clark had to pull on reserves of strength he didn’t know he had to think. “Don’t tease, you need to heal!” 

“Haven’t you ever heard of the healing power of laughter? One of my enemies told me about it.” Bruce’s hand started stroking and Clark forgot to ask if it was the Joker. Then Bruce hugged Clark, his left hand holding the jar to Clark’s chest, the right fighting to get to Clark’s erection, and something else rubbing against the cleft of Clark’s ass. 

Clark broke free of the hug to spin around and look. “Bruce, you’re hard!” 

“Excellent observational skills. Now get naked so I can use the lube I made.” 

The wiggling jar brought Clark away from his staring, and he sped out of his clothes. 

“On the bed and spread ‘em.” 

“Spread ‘em? What about romance and foreplay?” Clark protested even as he followed Bruce’s instructions. 

“We’ve been doing foreplay since I danced for you.” Despite his words, Bruce was teasing Clark with light touches on his thighs. “I stretched but didn’t get to my workout, so I’ve got energy. Would you rather I use it on hand jobs or a proper fuck?” 

“Since I’m already on my back with my legs spread, I guess I’ll go for a proper fucking.” 

“Lazy fucker!” 

Clark started to laugh, but a well lubed finger cut of his brain functioning. It was Bruce’s finger, so it wasn’t just stretching him, but exploring, searching for something. In, around and out, until a second finger joined it, and together they found a bundle of nerves. 

“Bruce! There, more, now!” 

“So damn tight, you’ll rip off my dick. I can fix that.” Bruce cut off Clark’s assurances of safety with a well lubed third finger and a hand on Clark’s cock. 

Bruce knew what he was doing, having observed what Clark liked to do to himself. Clark was afraid the sensations would overwhelm him too soon, when he wanted this to last forever, so he needed to distract himself. Forcing his eyes to focus, Clark realized he could see their reflections on the crystal ceiling. Even still, he didn’t understand the appeal of mirrored ceilings, as Bruce now filled his every sense. Too much Bruce to fight against, and the very next bump against his prostate shoved Clark into completion. 

Clark would have happily eased back into his body, luxuriating in post orgasmic bliss, but Bruce was still moving. The ceiling was too far away, so Clark lifted his head to see what Bruce was up to. Bruce saw him looking, and pulled his hand out with squelch. Clark thought he should protest, but Bruce was lubing his cock. 

“Beautiful cock, so huge.” 

“That’s right, you just lay there and relax.” 

“Okay.” Resting on his elbows, Clark watched as Bruce entered him, slowly, steadily. Giving in to Bruce was easy, wonderful, he really should do it more often. “Bruce, I feel full. Complete with you in there.” 

“Shut up.” Bruce growled as he set Clark’s knees on his shoulders. 

“You don’t mean that, you love my voice, you love that I talk and you don’t.” Clark knew his brain wasn’t working at full speed, but could only care about what Bruce was doing to him. Loving him at long last, while Clark slowly spoke. “You love me, you love me, you love that I just invented a game.” 

“Whatever! I’m busy.” 

“Every time I say love, you aim for my prostate, okay love?” 

“Are you high?” Bruce asked, but he kept moving, sliding out, pushing in. 

“High on love, that was perfect aim Bruce! I mean love, my love with the fantastic aim, my love who loves me! Faster love, deeper love, harder love, you’ve got me hard again and I love it!” 

“S-show of-ff.” Bruce muttered, stuttering a little as he increased his speed, thrusting fully into Clark with each snap of his hips. 

“Tell me Bruce, love, tell me when you’re close, I want to feel it, to feel everything!” Clark’s right leg fell off Bruce’s shoulder, but Bruce ignored it. Clark forced his eyes to Bruce’s face, saw the sweat trails and wide eyes, saw all of Bruce’s focus was on him. “Hotter than the fucking sun!” 

Bruce looked up at the cuss word in Clark’s voice so Clark saw the moment Bruce fell apart, and fell with him. This time, there was nothing to prevent Clark from taking his time returning to reality. 

“Hey!” Bruce’s shout came with a slap on the thigh. “Don’t fall asleep until you let me out.” 

Clark blinked his eyes open, to see a very cross Bruce squashed to Clark’s pelvis by his crossed legs. Clark laughed, not regretting being pulled back into this reality. Another slap on his thigh, and Clark let Bruce out, just long enough to pull him down to Clark’s chest. 

“So all I had to do was get you to laugh at me?” 

“Your therapy helped. A little.” 

“A teeny tiny bit?” 

“Use that phrase again and I’ll retract the statement.” 

“Bruce has a teeny tiny heart but it’s totally in love with me!” 

“That’s it, you’re no help.” 

“Bruce has teeny tiny heart but ginormous penis?” 

“That’s better.” 

“Bruce has a cock the size of Florida but that’s totally all mine too!” 

“That’s it, I’m going home.” 

“You are home, at least until I decide you can go back to terrorizing Gotham.” 

“You think you can keep me against my will?” 

“Um, I hope?” 

“Exactly.” 

“So smug! Yet I haven’t noticed you moving, so leaving was an empty threat.” 

“Computer, list contents of hanger.” 

“One craft, listed as Batwing.” The AI’s emotionless voice was still on the word wing when Clark flipped them over, pinning Bruce’s hands over his head. 

Bruce just gave him a smug grin, daring Clark to ask how and when he got the Batwing to the Fortress. 

“I have a hanger?” 

“Moron!” Bruce rolled his eyes, but the love was still shining through. “Did you never ask to see the Fortress blueprints?” 

“The AI could never understand what I meant.” 

“Structural schematics.” 

“I tried that.” 

“In Kryptonian?” 

“That wouldn’t help you, unless you’ve learned Kryptonian?” 

It was a joke, but Bruce’s smile wasn’t humorous. 

“Seriously?” 

Bruce wagged his eyebrows. 

_“Seriously?”_ Clark repeated, this time with more wonder then curiosity. 

_What did you think I was doing on your computer, playing games?”_

_I hoped you were watching porn._

_That was what you were for._

“Fair enough.” Clark thought about the things Bruce had done to get his private porn show. “Bruce?” 

“Clark?” 

“I’m going to make love to you now.” 

“I should hope so.” 

Clark rewarded that with a kiss, letting their tongues caress until Clark was fully hard. “Then we’ll do it on the Batwing, since I’ve always wanted to try that.” 

“It is very sexy.” Bruce agreed as he watched Clark lube his fingers and cock. 

Clark held his response until his first finger was buried in Bruce. “And then, all those naughty things you said to me?” 

“Yes?” 

“You’re going to repeat them, in Kryptonian.” A second finger was a tight fit, but with a little help from super eyes, it found just the right spot to make most men agreeable. 

“I am?” Bruce pushed down, looking for more than twisting fingers and seductive words. 

“Yes,” Clark said as if it was a known fact. His third finger had Bruce nice and lose before he continued. “You’ll say them as I do them to you.” 

“Sounds fair.” 

Clark slid into Bruce, relishing a moment of perfect agreement between them. Bruce’s rules had been broken and Bruce had borne the consequences. But love had mended him, love being the one thing Clark would never run out of. Rules could be broken, but not his Bruce, and not their love. 

sB _Sb_ Bs


End file.
